


Second Best

by darkandstormyslash



Category: Legend (2015)
Genre: Blow Job, Gangsters, M/M, Sex Mentions, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4965679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronnie Kray has never fucked Leslie Holt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Best

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the awesome Legend fanfic by Dizzy_Eyre and decided to try one of my own.

Ronnie Kray has never fucked Leslie Holt.

Only in the most technical way, of course, because Leslie’s done things to, for and with Ronnie Kray that would make a sailor blush. The first few nights after they were introduced were spent almost non-stop on his knees; rough carpeting tugging at skin, a big fist tangled in his hair, low voice above, the deep rich suffocating presence and smell of Ronnie.

_“It’s like riding a tiger.” Teddy says, lips red, teeth white, smile stretching._

_“What is?”_

_“Being fucked by Ronnie Kray.”_

After the white hot burst of that first wild introduction things die down a bit. He drives Ronnie’s car, does a few small jobs for him, does a few bigger jobs, gets into a few scraps. He meets Ronnie’s brother, who scares him witless in a way Ronnie never could. Ronnie is mad, and he’s predictable because he’s mad, and that’s what nobody seems to understand about mad people except Leslie Holt.

_“You know, they say I’m mad.” Teddy snarls, teeth red, lips white, the knife still twirling in his hands._

_“Do they really?”_

_“Don’t take the fucking piss Leslie.”_

Reggie Kray is sane, or passably so. Leslie keeps his head down and does the jobs Reggie asks him to. Then dips his head further down for the jobs Ronnie asks him to. He’s not technically a rent-boy, and not technically a driver, and he’s certainly not a gangster. He just hangs around with rent-boys, and drivers, and gangsters.

_“Do you know the thing about riding a tiger?” Teddy hoots from the back of the car, while Leslie swears and swerves and the flashing red and blue lights are all around them._

_“Please.” Leslie snaps through gritted teeth, as next to him Ian mutters in angry Scottish and tugs out his gun. “Please tell me the fucking thing about riding a fucking tiger.”_

_“There’s only one thing more dangerous than riding a tiger!” Teddy yells excitedly, and Leslie just wants to murder him, right then and there. Shot through the head, one bullet and they never found who did it, My Lud, just a strange bloodied smear behind the wheel of Ronnie Kray’s car._

_Ian mutters “Jumping off the tiger”, clearly having heard this before and two seconds later Teddy answers in a glorious exuberant echo._

_“Jumping off!”_

Ron does ask, just once. A big meaty hand spreads across Leslie’s arse, and a hard firm fist kneads down. Leslie squirms, and lets him, and then Ronnie murmurs from behind him, “Wouldn’t mind a go, Holt.”

He doesn’t know why he says no. It’s certainly not bravery. It’s cowardice – because he’s afraid of being the main rival to Teddy Smith, afraid of sinking too far into a world he’s not comfortable with and, naturally, afraid of Ronnie Kray’s cock.

For a moment, the hand hesitates. He’s expecting a slap, maybe even for Ron to ignore it and surge ahead anyway. Instead he gets a low chuckle, a hand ruffles and tugs in his hair, “Go on, piss off then. Go keep Boothby happy, yeah?”

He scoots out of the room as fast as he can, slightly ashamed, more than slightly relieved. Because Leslie Holt isn’t mad, he just hangs around with madmen. Drinks the expensive champagne, wears the expensive clothes, get into scraps and comes away stinging and bloodied but always alive. He turns his head when the cameramen flash by, hovers behind Teddy when they go out to cause mayhem, always one step behind, always a breath away from totally committing.

_“Bobby or Ron?” Teddy snaps bluntly, mid-conversation. “You gotta choose eventually Leslie.”_

_“Did he ask you to ask me?”_

_“Stop pissing around. Who would you choose?”_

_It isn’t a question. It stopped being a question a while ago and Leslie’s voice is slightly curious and lilting as he hesitantly answers, “Ron?”_

_“Pity.”_

_“What, why?”_

_Teddy flashes him a grin, and Leslie never does find out what Teddy would have done if he’d given the wrong answer._

 


End file.
